Life Beyond the Living
by Lady Dark Hatter
Summary: A story about a boy's journey to knowledge and self-discovery. The questions Riordan left about his little emo child will perhaps be answered.
1. Runaway

"_Go Away!" He yelled. "I hate you! I wish you were dead!"_

_The ground didn't swallow _me_ up, but Nico ran down the steps, headed towards the woods. I tried to follow, but I slipped and fell to the icy steps. When I got up, I noticed what I slipped on._

_I picked up the god statue Bianca had retrieved from the junkyard for Nico. _The only statue he didn't have,_ she'd said. A last gift from his sister._

_I stared at it with dread, because I now understand why it looked so familiar. I'd seen it before._

_It was a statue of Hades, Lord of the Dead._

-_Rick Riordan _"The Titan's Curse."

**x-x-x-x-x-x**

He ran as if he had death at his heels. His breath was released in tiny puffs of grey. The icy air pinched at his face. His body was chilled as if his bones had become icicles. His heartbeat was deafening and made his head feel heavy. All he could hear over the racing blood was the mixture of snow and dead leaves crunching under his numb feet. His vision was blurred with tears. He stumbled along the rigid forest floor, yet he pressed on.

What sort of child had to face this? He remembered nothing before the hotel he and Bianca had stayed in for a brief time in Las Vegas. The Lotus Hotel, he recalled its title. And yet he could not recall what exactly was inside. All he knew was that it was a place he and his sister enjoyed. It was the last time that they had such. When that lawyer took them from the hotel and shoved them into that hole of a boarding school, things only declined. His sister tried to avoid him for the first year, and if he got close, she could scream at him for no particular reason other than that she found him irritating. But he had no friends, only his one sister; his only family. He had attempted to make friends, but it always backfired. No one accepted him. He was outcaste with only one person to rely on.

When he had come to Camp Half-Blood, his heart was filled with a foreign feeling: joy. The place was right after his favourite Mythomagic game. He almost fainted from over-exposure to excitement. But as quick as the joy hit, it sank like the Titanic in fast-forward. He knew who Artemis was from his game, but he had never expected her to be so mean! She took away his sister with no regret whatsoever. When he heard that she was kidnapped, he was actually glad for it. She should die for breaking up the last family he had. Then that Percy Jackson stepped in… He promised to protect Bianca and keep her safe from danger. But naturally the stupid demigod only brought back a stupid statue and the worst of news. He did not want to face the truth. His sister could not be dead. She was all he had. If he was the son of some all-powerful god, then why would they allow this to happen? Why wouldn't they try to protect their own children? What kind of sick parent just stood by and allowed their child to die an avoidable, pre-mature death? It was no parent he wanted.

He had no idea where he was going, but fear drove him forward through the thick of the forest. He hoped that no on pursued him. He heard no crunching footsteps behind his own. Hopefully Percy had fallen back and broken his neck. That would leave a satisfied feeling in the boy's stomach, as morbid as it sounded. However, there was another threat. The skeletons that had attacked him and his ex-friend could still show up again. Though he had defended against them before, he was unsure he could do it again. All he knew was that his anger summoned a fissure that brought the dead back where they belonged.

Grover, the satyr whom he thought was trustworthy, had told him of monsters that infested these woods to challenge the campers. He hoped they slept through the night. But if what people said about monsters was true, most of them were awake when others were asleep. He was running unarmed through of forest of monsters with the threat of random skeletons attacking at any given time. He had no powers he knew of (other than maybe his fissure ability, but even so he was unsure of how to conjure it) and he did not pay serious attention to the few lessons that the camp briefly provided.

His lungs were beginning to hurt. His throat became tight and each breath he took burned. It felt as if he was choking himself. His throat swelled the point in that it almost closed. His lungs felt shrivelled to the point that they could barely accept oxygen. His head was becoming heavier. He stumbled more often across the snowy ground. His head was becoming his anchor that begged to greet the icy ground.

His legs screamed out in pain. They could take no more pressure. His vision warped further. The blurry visions began to swirl before blinking with black dots. His pace steadily slowed and blindly wandered. His knees finally buckled. He slumped on the ground. He wheezed for one last taste of air.

His head hit the dark, cold ground with a thud.

**x-x-x-x-x-x**

His ears perked at the sound of a large page turning. His heavy eyelids slowly lifted. His body was sunken in white snow that continued to keep his body frigid. He turned his head to get a look at where he was. He could still see trees and bushes, but also metal poles. He could hear the distant sound of cars zooming across the road and sirens wailing in the distance. Where he sat there was no light; artificial or otherwise.

He realized he was in one of the many New York parks. But how was that possible? How could he have run that fast from camp, and if it was the case, how could he not have seen the buildings earlier or heard the late traffic? It was impossible.

Slowly he pushed himself onto his knees. His mind instantly became dizzy, causing his head to fall again. He closed his eyes and took a brief moment to regain himself. He propped one knee up and used it to push the rest of himself to his feet. He brushed the snow off his pants and shirt with icy hands. His breath was still released in soft puffs of grey.

His ears perked at the sound of a page turning once more and a heavy breath. He turned his head to see a man sitting on a bench reading a newspaper. A good question was how the man could even see. Nico could barely see his own feet in the dark park. The only thing that stuck out about the man was the light paper in his hands.

"There you are, my boy." The man spoke out in a deep, booming voice that was lightly lined with an English twang. "It is rude to keep people waiting."

The man slowly folded his newspaper. He tucked it under his arm and slowly pushed up from the bench with a grunt. The man towered high. Nico had to crane his neck to get a look at what he figured was the man's face. The man reached out to grab a stick that was topped with something oddly familiar. Due to its light colour, Nico recognized it as a small skull of some strange animal.

The man moved towards the boy with long strides. Nico took an instinctive step back as he approached. He could start to see the man more clearly. He was not as tall as Nico had believed earlier, but he was still staggering none the less. What had deceived him was a top hat with a red ribbon at its rim. He wore a fine black suit, dark as a starless night, with a red tie. With pinstripe pants and shoes that reminded Nico of tap shoes, the man was dressed like something from nineteenth century England. His skin was rich and dark. His face was clearly aged, wrinkled along the sides of his mouth, under his eyes, and likely on his forehead (it was an educated guess since Nico could barely see the man's eyes, let alone what was above it)

He held a straight pipe between his lips. It puffed pure dark smoke that had no smell. However, it seemed to make the area darker.

"Who are you?" Nico demanded. "Did you bring me here?"

The man gave a casual shrug. "Perhaps." He mused, sounding bored. "You should merely be thankful that I am even performing this errand."

Nico narrowed his eyes at the man and took another step back. Who did this guy think he was? He spoke with arrogance that rang as clear as a bell. He seemed nonchalant, and yet held a deadly edge to himself.

"Why?" Nico demanded, trying to sound brave. "Are you here to kill me or something?"

The man chuckled, a deep, rolling sound, like thunder. The corner of his mouth turned up in what was possibly a smile, but Nico assumed was a smirk. This did not look like a man who smiled.

"Oh, no, my dear, foolish boy." He replied smoothly. "I am here to do quite the opposite actually."

Nico retreated back another step. Holding his ground may seem noble, but it was foolish. This odd man was something dangerous and not to be challenged. Should he offend the other to a point of violence… Well, he had a feeling the _errand_ would quickly be failed.

The man removed the pipe from his mouth and twirled it slowly. His eyes shifted from the child to the object he held. He watched it with boredom.

"You seek answers." He observed tonelessly. "I was sent here by who you wish to ask your questions to in order to guide you to him."

Nico raised a brow. What was this man going on about? Could this possibly be about his parents? Which was a god and which was a mortal being whom he did not remember? His heart suddenly leapt with excitement. His eyes grew wide with wonder as he stared at the man.

"Who?" He questioned with the upmost curiosity.

The man was silent for a moment, his eyes slowly rolled to look at the boy again. The ghost of a smirk touched his lips.

"Your father." He answered calmly.

Nico could hear his heartbeat again as it felt like the organ jumped into his throat. His father had sent someone for him…? Was this man like the lawyer who pulled him and his sister from that hotel? If he was, why was he not even questioning his sister's absence? Perhaps it was for the best. Nico found that the mere thought of his deceased sister made his heart clench painfully.

The man cleared his throat and Nico's head snapped up to look at him. Peering at him, the boy realized a terrible fact: this man's eyes irises were completely black, making it seem like two black pearls were glaring at him from the shadows.

"Where am I supposed to go?" Nico mustered the courage to ask. It took all his strength not to cower from the harsh stare.

"Where did the east go when it found no hope where it was?" He mused aloud. He pointed his cane westward. "They went west."

Nico frowned slightly at the thought. The west? How far west? A little west? West to the middle? Or completely west to the edge of America? What was even that far west anyway? Why would his father be there? There were too many questions.

The man gave an annoyed sigh. He lowered his cane and it touched the ground with a light tap.

"Travel to California, Los Angeles to be exact." He further explained. "But, if you wish to travel without risk of being killed, heed this kindness."

Nico was still confused. Kindness? The man said he was simply running an errand for his father. Quite reluctantly, he observed. Was this kindness from him or his father?

"Okay…?" Nico replied with a raised brow. He kept his guard up.

"Stay to the night and in the darkness." He warned. "Should you stray from it, you are open to Zeus and Poseidon's wrath."

Nico was quiet. What was this man going on about? The way he spoke and dressed made certain that he was no average human. But his true purpose was a mystery, and the unknown was terrifying. If this man was a god, then whatever he was doing had a catch to it. That was a lesson everyone in camp spoke of. No god did anything for free. Sometimes they could be upfront, other times they had a hidden message. But the only way for a demigod to stay alive when meddling with them was to not trust them and stay aware.

But even if this man was mortal, Nico had no intentions of trusting him or anyone else. The way even the closest people betrayed him was breaking. He only had himself now and it was safest to keep it that way. This dark fellow was the definition of untrustworthy. The fact that he was in the middle of a dark park, dressed in an odd way and offering small children rides after excusing they were sent by their parent? Not today.

The man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small pocket watch made of, what Nico guessed to be, ebony or granite, and accented with an odd turquoise. He raised his head and looked right. The sound of a large vehicle screeching to a stop filled the hollow park.

"Not a train," The man mused. "But it is right on time." His eyes focused back on Nico. "Your ride west has arrived. Best not be tardy."

Nico turned his head. The closest streetlamp buzzed and sputtered before dying out. A greyhound bus had rolled up to the curb. It wheezed and lowered slightly before the door opened. He could barely see the bus driver inside.

"Look here, boy." The man called.

Nico turned his attention back to him. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch that jingled. He tossed it to the bag to him. Nico stumbled to catch it. The leather pouch was burgundy and smooth to the touch. He slowly pulled it open and peered inside. There was a small roll of money and the rest was filled with odd gold coins.

"That should be enough to get you where you need to be." The man announced. "So, hop to it."

Nico opened his mouth to say something but it quickly closed. He slowly turned his body towards the bus, but kept strict eyes on the man. There was something about him that he wanted to know, but was afraid to find out. Slowly, he turned his head towards his target. The bus driver laid a hand quickly down on the horn. He jumped back slightly from the sudden, loud sound.

Before he stepped onto the heated bus, Nico looked back to wave the man goodbye. The man gave a smile and tipped his hat to him. When Nico blinked, he was gone. One by one the few lamps in the park flickered on, illuminating the place where the man first sat, but there was no trace of him.

Nico climbed onto the bus and did not dare look back. He knew the man would not be there. However, he was certain he would see him again.


	2. Sleeping City

Nico stared tiredly out the window of the Greyhound bus. The highway rolled by and cars zoomed by at almost blinding speed. Perhaps it was wise travelling throughout the night. In the morning and afternoon there was always traffic. People rushed by carelessly, causing accidents or being unaware of their surroundings and driving too slow. People were rude and aggressive when they were angry. At least, that is what New York was known for. He wondered if Los Angeles would be the same. It would probably be worse, his pessimistic mind assumed. In a land of fallen stars, it would not doubt be an even more dangerous city. Hopefully he'd be able to find his father before he got a real taste of the city.

There were few other patrons on the bus. Two older women sat closer near the back (for bathroom access, he guessed), an Asian teen staring blankly upwards with headphones on. An older, fatter man was sitting a few rows behind him. The man had the arm rest up that separated two seats in order to make it one. Sadly humorous, the boy found. Then there was the sleeping man on the seat across from him. He wore ripped navy jeans, a t-shirt with an odd slogan on it, and a blue plaid fedora covering his face. On the heels of his shoes were odd bumps that almost looked like wheels.

There was something odd about the man. Perhaps it was the way he slept, laid across the two seats with his head on something, one leg pressed against the isle armrest and one hung over it and almost touching the one across. Perhaps it was the fact that he was silent and completely unmoving. It did not even look like the man was breathing.

Nico considered trying to make him move to make sure he was alive, but decided against it. It was not his business whether he was sleeping or dead. Another fact was that if he woke the man up, he would likely get a tempered response. But it is tempting. Had it been only a few days ago, he likely would. He turned his head and looked back out the window.

It was amazing how quickly a person could change after a tragic event struck. When he was certain his sister was alive, he would he pressed his feet up against the back of the chair before him and annoy whoever sat there. He would have leaned over the armrest and poke the man until he awoke before bombarding him with questions or facts that he would be completely uncaring about until he snapped. However, now the boy only wanted to curl up in his seat and wait for this trip to be over. He would close his eyes and ignore everyone around him, even if someone tried to speak to him. He would be aware of his surroundings, of course, but if he found a threat he would take full attention to it. It was a matter of simple words that broke him and changed him almost completely.

The world outside the window went from a brightly lit highway filled with zooming cars to a lone, barely lit freeway. The lights from inside the bus (which were dimmed for the sleepy passengers) cast a ghostly glow around while the headlights made a faint sight of what was ahead. The shadows along the side of the road were from tall grasses and dwarfed trees.

He wondered if there were any monsters running around in the great darkness that could barely be lit by the moon above. It was likely. He had to be far from camp by now. If what Grover and he-who-shall-not-be-named (No, not Voldemort) said was true, then monsters could smell him from miles off. It was a bit terrifying. In fact, it was incredibly terrifying. . A monster could be chasing after this very bus right now, determined to rip him to shreds.

"You are way too high strung."

The sound of someone's voice made Nico jump. His heart leapt into his throat and left a nasty lump there which he struggled to swallow back. He turned his head slowly to see who had spoken. The man who he thought was dead was sitting up. Well, not really sitting up, but perched on his toes like a bird. Without his hat covering his face, he noticed how pale the man was. His eyes were framed crooked with thick-rimmed black glasses. His hair was a black mess atop his head, sticking up in odd places. But his eyes were odd. They were deep in a dull colour, like grey, but not quite. It seemed oddly familiar.

Nico looked at the man like he was insane, and he most likely was. He slowly adjusted himself to sit up properly in his seat. He shimmied closer to the window and turned his head away. Hopefully ignoring the man would make him go back to sleep. It was amusing to think that he at least got his answer. The man was alive. However, as he felt the man's gaze never leaving him; he found himself wishing it were the opposite.

He heard a small grunt before the groan of old springs. He looked from the corner of his eye to see a face once at a respectable distance now uncomfortably close. He jumped back slightly and pressed his back against the window. He watched the odd man with untrusting eyes. The man, however, smiled tiredly and stared at the boy as if he found his mean stare funny.

"Way too high strung." The man mused lightly to himself. He tilted his head lightly as he observed. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Nico raised a brow at the man. Apparently ignoring him was not the best form of getting rid of him. He was tempted to move, but that was cowardly. Besides, he could not if he wanted to for the man was crouched on the isles seat and was bound to block his way. Nico slowly turned to sit properly on the seat. He turned his head to stare out the window and continued to offer the silent treatment to the man. Hopefully he would get the hint this time.

He felt something dig into his arm for a brief moment. Then it happened again. And a third time. Fourth time. Fifth time. Sixth time. Sev-

"What?" Nico finally snapped, turning his head to glare at the man. His hands were balled into his fists and his eyes were fierce with anger and annoyance. He would try to summon a fissure to swallow the whole bus up if he were not on it.

The man leered back slightly. He looked startled by the boy's sudden outrage. He quickly relaxed again and offered a satisfied smile; as if he found something he was looking for. He turned to press his back against the chair and set his legs down to rest his feet on the floor. Nico now noticed that the man's hair flicked up by his neck slightly. He placed his hat on his lap and folded his hands behind his head. He nestled down into the seat and sighed pleasantly.

"You never answered my question." The man replied simply. When Nico looked at him with confusion instead of anger, he laughed. "What's got you so uptight, kid?"

Nico narrowed his eyes hatefully. He kept himself pressed against the window. His arms were crossed over his chest. His eyes turned to stare out the window again. He only wanted this trip to be peaceful. He was still uptight due to the run-in with that other man in the park. His black eyes haunted the boy. He wished it would be the last stranger he would find until he could locate his father, who was apparently in Los Angeles. What kind of god would coup themselves up in Hollywood, polar from New York where Olympus was said to hover over?

The man's lips turns up in a threatening smile. His eyes gleamed dangerously. Nico found himself afraid. Who would have thought a lazy looking fellow could change in the blink of an eye.

"You're too uptight." He repeated himself. "Lack of sleep, probably. I haven't been doing my job very well, it seems."

It struck Nico like a rock. He repulsed mortals. The instinct of self-preservation caused them to avoid anything that was remotely close to death or harm. But gods and demigods did not play by those rules. The deep sleep, the constantly tired eyes; it all fit together perfectly.

This man was Hypnos, god of sleep.

Before Nico could open his mouth, Hypnos pressed a hand against the head. His nails dug in to his skull. He gasped in pain and reached to grip the god's wrist. Why was no one trying to stop him? It had to be that mist that Chiron told him about. It was said that the mist was thin, for humans were all too easy to blind. What a cruel reality.

Nico released a final, strangled cry for help before everything went black.

**x-x-x-x-x-x**

Nico's eyes flickered open slowly. It was even heavier than before. Fainting twice in one day could not be healthy for a child's mind. His left temple throbbed and made it hard to register what was around him. He reached to rub his forehead, hoping to soothe the pain. His eyes opened slowly. He blinked at the sudden exposure to bright light. It dulled quickly and he finally was able to absorb his surroundings.

He was in a city that was passing by quickly. High buildings surrounded like prison walls. The area was filled with hills that gently rolled or were intimidatingly steep. The city held a glow of artificial lights that reached up to kiss the dark sky above. Smog hid the beauty of the night sky. Perhaps during the day this city could be considered beautiful, but as a bitter air whipped around his face, he found no such attraction.

Wait, wind? He finally realized that he was moving. He looked to his sides and saw no vehicle. When he looked down, he saw a familiar plaid hat.

"What the Hades are you doing?" The boy screeched and squeezed the god's neck.

Hypnos hacked and coughed. He stumbled forward and Nico slid slightly down his back. He readjusted his grip on the boy's legs and pushed him back up. He took five quick steps and leaned back on his heels, rolling forward for the next few meters.

"Will you cut it out?" The god demanded harshly, glaring over his shoulder. "I'm supposed to get you to your dad safely, and you trying to make me crash isn't helping!"

Nico paused briefly. Get him to his father? Why would the god of sleep be running an errand for his father? At least it answered his question of which of his parents were gods. But what god could order another god around? A god in the west who had influence over Hypnos... Nope, he could not name it. He knew plenty of myths; however he did not know all that much about minor gods.

Hypnos took an odd mode of transportation. Nico would at least think he would have a car or something. The sleep god took three to five fast steps before leaning on his heels and rolling the next few feet. If they came across an upward slant, he would walk up. If they came across a downward slant, he would roll.

"Don't you at least have a car or something?" Nico asked at last. The changing movements were giving him a headache.

The god shrugged, causing Nico to slip down again before being readjusted.

"Yeah, but my brother took it." He answered calmly. "Ruins it when it comes back too. Italian engineering is too mainstream for my liking. I prefer my box on wheels, thank you very much." He continued to mindlessly babble, leaving the poor boy confused.

Hypnos mentioned his brother frequently. Nico struggled to remember who that was. He knew that Hypnos had three sons, the dream gods. But the brother was supposed to be a twin, right? The name was on the tip of his tongue but he just could not manage to say it.

"Thanatos." Hypnos said out of nowhere. "My little brother."

Apparently, there was one fact he had overlooked about sleep gods: they could read minds. Either that, or Hypnos was better at deducing than Sherlock Holmes.

Nico readjusted himself on the other's shoulder. "I thought you were twins."

He could see Hypnos smirking slightly, that same, arrogantly lazy expression that he always showed on the bus. "We are." He agreed in a light tone. "But consider this; sleep comes before death and comes back again."

Nico opened his mouth to reply, but could find nothing to say. That was an odd concept to wrap the mind around. Sleep comes before death and comes back again… Well, he supposed that before you die you go into a sleeping state, and then the afterlife is considered eternal sleep. But if someone died suddenly, say being shot in the most vital part of the brain; that would mean death came before sleep.

"Did I just blow your mind or what, kid?" Hypnos grinned. He gave a laugh and shook your head. "Don't turn into another Socrates on me." His face suddenly took a sullen expression, eyes dark and hateful. "I don't need another human's accomplishments being rubbed in my face…"

Nico frowned as he listened to the god muttering under his breath. So, it seemed that the laidback, passive attitude was all a façade. It was intimidating to see Hypnos snap from one attitude to its polar opposite. Not that alone, but the god, like any new person, was a wild card. He had no idea about the capability of this being. The only power he was aware of was full consciousness when sleeping and the ability to make anyone fall asleep by a single touch, or possibly even less than that. The only thing he wanted to know about Hypnos was his weakness. He remembered something about Hypnos being a weaker god, nearly getting killed by Zeus for putting him to sleep and letting Hera try and kill Heracles. But something had stopped it. However, whatever the key element, was beyond him.

Nico felt Hypnos lurch forward and slowed his steps. His eyes were focused to the left. Nico's eyes followed. Up a few narrow steps was a building nestled between two larger ones. The windows were tinted black, making it impossible to see inside. The sign was no illuminated, signalling that it was closed and making it too difficult for the boy to read. He felt Hypnos's arms to release his legs and allowed him to slip down his back and onto the cement ground. The god pushed him gently towards the steps.

"Come on, kid." He said between a yawn. "The way to your dad is right through there."

Nico stumbled forward slightly. He looked over his shoulder at the god. Hypnos gave him a gesture to move forward. The boy slowly ascended up the steps. As he grew closer to the dark building, the air around him grew colder. His throat felt dry. The wind nipped at his face with a greater force than what he faced in New York. As his legs found the strength to climb the last step, he grabbed the black metal handle and pushed it open.

His heart stopped beating for that brief moment.


	3. Father Dearest

The door opened to reveal a rather normal-seeming waiting area. To the left there were two low black leather couches, a coffee table with scattered magazines, a few potted trees, and multiple clocks on the wall demonstrating time zones for key cities, including New York, Rome, and Athens. On the wall directly before the door on the far right side was two metal doors closed together, likely being an elevator. To the right of the room was a pedestal that stood higher than the boy.

However, as lovely as the room was, it was the patrons inside that terrified him.

Squeezed together on the couch or randomly scattered around the room were transparent beings. They stood and sat motionlessly and stared off in no particular direction. They were abroad in gender, age, and race. That which alarmed him the most was a mother holding a baby in her arms by the elevator. Her face was expressionless and she had a completely clear hole the diameter of a dime in her forehead. Her baby had a sack over its head held down by a thin rope.

Nico's stomach churned in disgust at the sight. This room, possibly this building, was populated by ghosts. The cold aura that he felt when he first approached made perfect sense. The rumors about ghosts were true. The left a chilling sensation when in their presence, some even said their passing through humans caused shivers down the spine.

He needed to get out of here. Cautiously, he began to back out of the room to make quick escape out the door. When he reached back to feel for the handle, he felt something else; something warm.

"Wow, kid, I like you, but not in that way." Hypnos said with this classic smirk. He put his hands up as a show of peace. "I'm all for exploring your sexuality, but there's a time and place for that."

Nico's face burned with embarrassment. He wanted to punch the sleep god right then and there. However, the back of his mind advised against it. There was still that whole "all-powerful" wild card thing he had kept to every person he had met so far and would meet on the way along. He decided it was best to try slipping past Hypnos before making a break for it. He ducked under the other's arm and reached for the door bar that would push outside. But, before he could even get a whiff of the mucky Los Angeles air, someone grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

He hacked and struggled helplessly. He reached back to try and pry the hand from his collar, but it made little difference. He was dragged backwards across the room. His heart pounded against his chest, adrenaline burning his veins like corrosive acid. He looked briefly over his shoulder to see where he was being lead. Hypnos dragged him towards the high pedestal. He heard someone groan over his rapid heartbeat. A figure slowly emerged from behind the pedestal and stood over them.

The man had dark skin that reminded Nico of something he could not name. He wore a fine white suit with a black undershirt and a striped tie. He wore dark sunglasses which completely hid his eyes. His hair was dyed blonde and slicked back. Over his left breast he had a pin which had words on it that his dyslexia could not comprehend. He narrowed his eyes to hazily make out something that looked like: "Charon" When his eyes lifted to look back at his face, he swallowed hard. Despite not being able to see the man's eyes, he could feel his glare.

"Who's this bugger?" The man demanded. His voice was deep with an Australian accent. He tilted his head down and his eyes peered from behind his sunglasses. His eyes were black vortexes with glittered black spots, like dying embers.

Nico felt a shiver go down his spine at the deadly stare.

"He's the one your boss-man is waiting for." Hypnos answered calmly.

Charon sneered at the sleep god as if he was a maggot who had crawled into his food. He rested his arms on the pedestal and leaned over it.

"I don't give a damn who he is." He said flatly. "He can pick a number and wait until I feel like taking him like the rest."

Nico frowned and looked up at Hypnos. Why would he be brought here if it was not already assured? Or did the sleep god just bring him here on a whim? He was fully aware the other had some sort of gain from this or he would not have done it in the first place, let alone standing in this ghost-filled waiting room arguing with this terrifying man.

Hypnos looked back at the boy and gave him an assuring smile. As he turned into look back at Charon, he smirked casually and strode up to the pedestal. He leaned against it casually. His eyes looked off as if he were bored by this semi-fight.

"Listen, Charon." He said smoothly. "Why don't you consider this a favor to me? I'll owe you one."

Charon sneered down at Hypnos. He leaned further down on the pedestal. "I don't give a damn about this kid, or you. I don't care if his daddy's Ouranus; he don't pay, he don't get in! Besides, I know you better than that, Hypnos. You don't keep your debts, not even to your brother."

Nico was alarmed. Charon and Hypnos were brothers? He looked between the two and saw no resemblance. Not only in skin colour and eyes, but any notable facial features. He raised a brow at the accusation but kept his mouth shut.

Hypnos glared at Charon. He slammed his fist into the pedestal and the wood splintered under the force. The loud bang made the boy jump. Hypnos was allot stronger than he looked. He was full of surprises and it was absolutely terrifying. The god stomped back towards Nico and his glare softened somewhat.

"Do you have any drachmas?" He questioned. When Nico stared at him dumbly he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Drachmas, ancient gold coins; currency of the gods. Did that camp teach you anything?"

Nico remembered the odd gold coins that sat at the bottom of the black money pouch that the man in the park had given him. He pulled the pouch out of the pocket of his ripped jeans. He pulled one of the shining drachmas out and showed it to Hypnos. It felt

"That'll get you knocked into Styx if that's all you got." Charon said harshly. "And don't you give me any crap about convincing the boss to give me a raise. You demigods are notorious liars."

Hypnos rolled his eyes and snapped the pouch out of Nico's hand. He peered inside and his eyes widened. The boy could see the god's eyes almost reflected the weighted coins.

"This is more than mom's ever given me…" he said in a whiney tone. His lips pursed in a childish pout. From the corner of his eye he shot an envious glare in Nico's direction.

He pulled out a handful and showed it to Charon. The blonde's eyes widened in interest at the coinage. They were hungry, like a starved dog's when its owner held up a juicy steak. The sleep god placed the money on the pedestal. Charon snatched it up like he was afraid he would lose it. He counted the coins carefully. When he finished, he eyed the pouch.

Hypnos tossed it to Nico. He fumbled but managed to hold it. Charon turned a sharp eye to him. Hypnos, however, made the gesture to pocket the rest of the money. He found himself a lot more afraid of the sleep god that his brother.

"You can get the rest when you take me where I need to go." He said with a forced bravery.

Charon sighed and stepped down from the podium. He walked towards the elevator and the ghosts all snapped their head to follow him with their eyes. Hypnos led Nico along, close behind the other. Charon pressed the down-pointing button. The ghosts around became restless. They rushed towards the door, all waving what looked like tickets. Charon shoved them back as he pushed into the elevator, Hypnos and Nico close behind. The ghosts rushed inside. The pushed and shoved each other to get past the doors.

Charon growled in annoyance as he shoved through the ghosts the close the door. The elevator dinged and the doors began to slide shut. The ghosts on the outside gave sharp, desperate cries as they reached inside. When the doors finally closed and cut their arms off, the limbs vanished into thin mist.

Nico glanced around the dark room and noticed something that also scared him. Charon's clothes had changed completely while he was no looking. The fine suit became a dark, shrouded cloak. His once rich skin was now transparent and showed a grinning skull under the large hood. He glanced and found he was no longer standing on a shiny metal floor, but old, dark wood boards. His head snapped up. He was no longer in a confined elevator, but a boat; a boat that drifted along a murky river in a dark realm that choked the lungs with an evil air.

He realized where he was. He was on the dead's ferry that traveled down the infamous River Styx. He was in the Underworld.

The boat rocked softly along as it cut through the water like a knife. Charon held the long paddle and pushed along at a steady pace. Nico stayed close to Hypnos who remained perfectly calm. The sleep god stared out at the demonic realm with boredom, as if he was just waiting for the boat to dock. The boy could see his head bob slightly. He began to lean over to edge of the boat. In three more bobs, Hypnos was fast asleep and snoring softly.

Charon lifted the paddle slowly out of the water. He carefully slipped it under Hypnos's body. With one jerk, the god was in the water. Nico gasped and peered over the edge. Hypnos's body was left floating face down. Bubbles rose around his head in pauses. The god was alive, fast asleep, and still snoring. He looked back up at the ferryman. For the briefest moment, he thought he jaw the skull grin just a bit more.

The boat slid next to a dock. It slowed to a halt. The ghosts rose from their seats and filed from the boat one by one. Nico watched them depart before standing up to follow them. He felt a hand reach out to grip his shoulder and cause him to jump. He looked over to see the human persona of Charon. Wordlessly, he held his hand out to him.

Nico stared at him with a dumb expression. When Charon curled and uncurled his fingers, it clicked in. The boy dug into his pocket and handed the ferryman the pouch of drachmas. He accepted it and pulled it open. He turned the bag upside-down and pocketed the gold. He offered the pouch back to him. The boy blinked, clearly confused.

"She's going to want that back." Charon told him at last. "I'm still on the clock, but you seem to have all the time in the damn world so make yourself useful."

Nico frowned and looked at the dark pouch. He departed from the boat and followed in tow with the souls which headed forward. Through their transparent forms he could see an odd gate ahead. It reminded him of the entrance of an amusement part. Although what peered past did not seem all that amusing. Three lines to three gates rolled in tow. One line moved quickly while the other two moved at a snail's pace.

On the far left side, parted from the other gates, was an odd-looking one that no line filed into. It was a lined in dark iron. The doorway was completely black. A shadowy mist spilt out from it. It licked the ground in slowly movement, never straying far. The doorway warped in dark shades. It mixed and churned randomly. Above it was a sign in ancient Greek which was the only language he could read fluently. The gateway was named _Erebus_.

He frowned at the foreign word. His Mythomagic game had taught him many of the elements in the death realm and yet he could not recall such a place. He knew the places where all souls were sorted: Tartarus, the Fields of Punishment, Asphodel, Elyse, and the Isles of Bliss. Everything was organized accordingly; so what could possibly be in Erebus?

He saw a form slip from the edges of the darkness. It was a woman. She was tall and beautiful. Her hair was black as a starless night, pulling back into a loose bun. Her skin was paler than the moon with lips painted red as blood. Her black dress hugged her curved-shaped body and cut down the side of her leg, the bottom of it glittering with white specks like stars. She held a long French cigarette holder and it's end burned with white hot embers

Her eyes were intent on him and her red lips curled into a familiar smile. Her eyes broke from him briefly to address someone else. It was a teenaged girl who ran straight towards her. The girl had brown hair tied back into a ponytail that waved as she ran. He could make out that her purplish shirt only covered her right arm. She wore tight pants that changed from black to red halfway down her thigh and marked with a black over her knee. She was barefoot and Nico swore he could see red on the soles.

The girl tried to rush into the gates of Erebus but was stopped by the women. She pointed a long finger at the boy and said something. The girl looked briefly over her shoulder. Nico could feel her cold stare pierce him like a dagger. She shrugged the women's hand off before marching inside. The women frowned before looking back to the boy. She smiled again, politely waved, before following the girl inside.

Nico's frown deepened as he stared at the empty gateway. Who was that women and why was she so intent on him? It was scary in a way. He felt the line continue to move along and he was forced to fall in tow. The line was starting to move quicker. Unlike the other lines, this line did not stop. Though it was not something to run to keep up, it did not pause for a moment.

He paused briefly for a moment. A cold sensation shot up his spine. His head slowly craned to look up. He saw something circle overhead. At first, he thought it was a large bird or bat. The creature began to decrease its distance. He could see the large, veiny bat wings beat at a steady pace. The body of it was not an animal, nor was it human. It seemed like a mix of both. The creature held the body of a withered old woman. However, the snarl of jagged yellow teeth gave another opinion.

The ghosts around him began to scatter at the sound of fleeing bats. The line was no more as the souls of the deceased hid. They gathered in large groups at the sides of the gateway. They all looked to the sky in fear. Nico wanted to cover his ears before he figured out the creature's target. He large, demonic eyes were focused on the only living thing in the area; him.

He turned on his heels and made a run for it. He could hear the sound of the large wings flapping behind him. The wind was on his back. Maybe if he got past the gate the creature would leave him alone. He made a beeline for the gate which more ghosts moved through; entitled _E-Z Death_. Adrenaline rushed in his ears, deafening him. His heart thumped against his chest. He felt its burn in every vein in his body.

Before he could scream, he was snatched into the air by large claws. The creature's talons looped around his arms. They did not crush him, but they were far from a gentle hold. He grabbed onto the creature's ankles and held on for dear life. The ground was far below him. He could see the dark ground rolling onward. The sight would be impressive had he not been so terrified.

The creature reared to the left towards a menacing building. A tall building made of black spired nestled into the rocks that encased the realm. The creature steadily began to descend along the long black bridge. The path of black stone lead into the jagged maw of a gateway. Two guards stood on either end of the gates holding spears upright. They wore Spartan armour and stood tall as he and the creature approached. When past them by with a gust of wind, he noticed their skin was translucent, even more so than the spirits in Charon's waiting room. As the creature flew by, he noticed more of the soldiers in an array of armour and holding an arsenal of weapons.

The creature began to descend lower. Nico held his feet up so they did not drag along the ground. He could see the room coming to an end. From the long hall, the creature took him into a large room. It rectangular in shape. Long, thin windows stretched to kiss the high roof. They were fragmented like monochrome stain glass. In the centre, introduced by a long carpet, were two thrones. One was made from bark and entangled with spring flowers. Despite the cold weather above the hell, the flowers bloomed brightly in an array of colours. The larger next to it was the absolute opposite. It looked like it was made of a fusion of bones, mainly skulls. Both thrones were occupied, by beautiful young woman, and an older, darker man. Both of them were watching him and both of them did not look pleased.

The monster set the boy down oddly gently. He stumbled a step, but quickly regained himself. The beast took off and landed gracefully on the back of the death throne. The withered old hag's eyes glowered at him intensely, brimming with intelligence. She did not look hungry, but thinking about the best way to cook him first. His gaze slowly lowered to the two occupying the thrones.

The woman had her arms crossed and her glare was far more terrifying than that of the hag. She had an arrogant way of sitting. Her legs were crossed and she leaned against the side of her earthy seat. Her hand tapped the armrest with obvious agitation. It seemed the last thing she wanted to see was Nico in her throne room. The man next to her wore a mask of indifference. He sat tall and strong; the posture of an authoritarian and the dark aura that surrounded him only solidified it. He was wrapped in dark cloaks that the child swore he could see faces moaning out in distress sewn into the fabric.

Nico swallowed hard as he met the man's harsh black eyes. He swallowed hard and stood his ground. He had to have been brought here for a reason. His heart began to pound again. This was the place he was to get his answers, but it was a wild card to know if that was a good thing or not.

The man gave a hefty sigh. The boy swore he saw a smile crack on his pale lips.

"It has been a long time, son."


	4. An Invitation

Nico stood like a deer in headlights. Before him was his father, the man who had abandoned him and his sister. That god had let Bianca die! Yet, the boy could not find anything to say. Perhaps it was from nerves, or perhaps it was from anger. But what was he to be angry about? After all, he had gotten wanted, after all. He had found his father. That should have been a victory, right? So why did it feel so hollow?

His father sighed softly. He tilted his head slightly to the right. His fingers flexed uneasily. He had the body language of a high instated man in the mists of a tedious situation. Glancing to the women next to him whose earth-tone eyes bored into his skull, Nico could understand. Despite being family, he was not welcomed here. Not with her around.

His father shifted uncomfortably as he glanced to his wife. Persephone's eyes were cold and unforgiving. She leaned back against her throne with an annoyed huff. She glared away and kept her uptight posture. Her passive-aggressive attitude was enough to make Hades sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath. Persephone's head snapped to glare poison blades at the Lord of Death.

"I told you I don't want to even see your damn brats so long as I'm stuck here with you." The goddess snapped. "Either the kid goes or I go."

Hades grimaced. Nico could tell that his father wanted to be anywhere but here. But the boy felt no sympathy. He was brought here for a reason, to get answers about his past; who he was and where he came from. Maybe even how to bring his sister back… However, he was greeted by his father and his true wife who acted like he was a mutt Hades pulled off the streets.

"Where would you even go?" Hades demanded. His eyes flared dangerously and his aura followed. "You know the agreement; you are here for six months! Your mother cannot intervene and you cannot leave."

Persephone rose from her throne with her head high in arrogance. With her nose in the air and her arms at her side, she stormed from a doorway right of her throne. The skeletal soldiers stepped aside to allow her passage. She paused for a moment. Her head slowly turned to pass that terrifying glare to Nico. He felt a shiver go down his spine. Compared to the creature (which had fled from Hades' throne during the tension) her eyes were far more menacing. Her gaze then turned to Hades who stared back at her calmly. The goddess finally gave one last passive-aggressive sigh and left the room.

Hades frowned, his eyes longing after his wife. His attention turned to Nico. The small boy glowered, but it was weak and uncertain. He was more nervous than angry. Even if he had come here for nearly no reason, the journey here was enough to make him light-hearted. When adrenaline died out, the will to fight for all went with it. Some called it weakness; others called it the way of things. Yet the child found himself agreeing with the first argument.

Finally Hades spoke. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet on better terms, Nico." He said honestly. "But come the current circumstances, I could not wait until she was taken back by her mother."

Nico could not remember how to speak. He had come all this way for an apology for his father's uptight wife? He was better off dying in the forest, being ripped to shreds by whatever monster happened to pass him by. Maybe that manticore would come by and finish him off when he was alone and defenseless. He was better off coming here when he was ready; when he was dead.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat. Dry lips parted and a voice was finally heard.

"What happens now?"

Hades rose to his feet, slow and steady. Nico could finally appreciate how intimidating his father was. Even at the size of a man, he was a giant. He stepped down from the higher platform to stand on the same level as his son. It was all physical, of course. Nico had a strong feeling that he was not going to get anywhere near understanding with the Lord of the Underworld.

"Now you stay here until I know what to do with you." He said flatly, uncaring. "I have arranged for you to stay in one of the rooms here. A guard will escort you."

Hades made his way after his wife. His son stared after him in disbelief. Literally all of that was for nothing? He was floored, confused, and most of all, angry. This had been a waste of time. Hades did not even care. His eyes narrowed at his father. His fear had melted away and was replaced with a burning hatred. His teeth clenched tightly together and his eyes focused daggers at the god's back.

"So all of this was for nothing?" He yelled. "My entire world has been turned upside-down in a matter of weeks and you don't even care?"

Hades stopped dead in his tracks. He was still as a statue for a long moment before slowly looking over his shoulder. His dark, dead eyes were enough to cast all anger from Nico and welcome back to fear. Yet he did not stop. He took a deep breath and continued his accusation.

"I lost everything! I lost my school, my hopes, my beliefs, and the only person who ever cared about me!" He screamed.

A power crackled around him. It was the same power which he felt when that idiot Percy came back with a pocket full of empty promises. It was the rage-induced power which had cast those skeleton creatures right back into the ground.

He could see his father's eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and impression. However, it quickly faded. It was replaced with his former annoyed glare.

"I know what happened to Bianca, look at where you are." Hades pressed. "And she was not the only one who cares about you. I care about you. If I didn't care about you; Zeus would have killed you long ago."

"Are you saying you're the one who sent the lawyer to get Bianca and me out of the hotel?" He demanded.

Hades opened his mouth to speak but it quickly closed. He looked trapped. His mouth pressed into a hard line as he tried to figure out what to say. Nico could plainly see how awkward the other was being. It would be amusing had he not been so enraged and annoyed.

Finally able to get his tongue untied, Hades spoke.

"That is a question better suited for later." He dodged. "For now, you can wait in your room."

"Did you at least send Hypnos to bring me here?" Nico demanded. "Did you at least do that?"

Hades brows furrowed with confusion. He stared at the boy as if he had spoken in a completely different language.

"Hypnos may live here, but the idiot doesn't do anything for anyone except his mother." He paused again. "Occasionally."

Nico frowned. So Hades had not sent the sleep god after all. So did that mean Hypnos's mother had? But who was his mother. The thought bothered him. He had a vague idea of who it was but he could not place a name or an attribute.

Hades waved his hand passively. A skeletal guard dressed in Spartan armour (Nico could tell due to the thick bronze chest plate, shin guards, and red cape) approached him. He carried a large spear and shield, both yielded to show no aggression. Hades gestured him towards Nico and the skeleton slowly turned his head to him.

"Take my son to his room." He commanded. He left the throne room before he could be accused of anything else. A coward's move.

Nico followed the guard out of the throne room. They exited through the hallways opposite of the one Hades took for his quick escape. The hall was illuminated by torches with odd bluish green flames. The gothic, spired-like architecture made the boy afraid to even touch the walls for he could be pricked. There were few doorways and few decorations. It seemed more like a cavern with doors and windows if anything.

The soldier came to a stop at a dark wooden door. It was curved at the top to give it a medieval flare. On either side were two odd torches. It made Nico think of the entrance to a torture chamber. His heart sank at the thought. It did not help that Tartarus and the Fields of Punishment were right around the corner. Luckily no screams of agony lurched from beyond the wood.

The solider left Nico to his own accord. He made no footsteps as he descended down the hall. Nico grabbed the large metal door handle and pushed it open. To his surprise, it was rather cozy. It was painted darker colours. The floor was a pale carpeted and the essential furniture was neatly set in order. Everything was made from a dark birch wood. A dresser sat next to the door. A tall wardrobe sat on the far left wall in between two doors (likely closet and a bathroom). Against the wall before him was a desk, chair, and oil lamp that did not burn. Then there was the bed. It had an elegant headboard with many pillows resting against it and each other and a blue and back comforter.

Nico closed the door behind himself and walked inside. It was nice, but he was not yet to call it home. Right now, it was a well-furnished cell.

He sauntered over to the bed and sat down. It was plush, and warm. Only until now did he realize how tired he was. How long had it been since he had run from camp? What was the date? It bothered him that he could not remember. Then again, while he was at camp he cared little for the date. He just looked at the clock and waited for the days to pass until his sister returned from her mission. He was hoping Artemis would die so maybe Bianca would be freed. Sadly, not only had that thief of a goddess make it away with barely a scratch, his sister didn't come home.

His heart clenched. This would be his first Christmas without her. It was not as if their Christmas was much. Even at the military school, some kids would get to take leave through the holidays, or they would be sent care-packages from their parents. Yet Bianca never disappointed him. Every Christmas she would manage to sneak away from the school and buy him a pack of Mythomagic cards for a gift. He had always felt guilty for being unable to return the favor. He would try to find her at least a flower, or make something for her. It was not much, but at least it was something.

In all honesty, the only reason he really liked the game for as long was because Bianca knew how much he liked it. Though she would give him hell at times for being so obsessed with it, she still allowed him to play. Maybe it was because she'd like him to be distracted and allowed her free time. Either way, it still meant that she cared, so that was all that mattered.

He sighed sadly and lay down properly on the bed. He tried to be comfortable by tossing and turning, testing for the best spot. He groaned in frustration and turned back onto his right side. He stared blankly at the wall before him. Thoughts and memories of his sister filled his head, haunting him. He tucked his hands to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to force out the painful memories, yet all that fell were tears upon his cheeks. Slowly, he curled into a ball against the bedding which now only felt like ice against his cheeks.

His world felt like it was reeling. He was so tired. There was too much going on at once. He had no idea when he fell asleep, but he sorely wished he had not.

-x-

He was back at the forest at the edge of Camp Half-Blood. There was no snow on the ground, but the leaves of the trees were bare. Above his head storm clouds brewed with an evil omen. Crows cried out and flew over him. They landed on the thin branches and stared at him with beady eyes. First he could only see five. More gathered. Seven, ten, fifteen, twenty… It did not take long until he was surrounded by the black birds.

The air around him was still, but icy. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He took a brief look-around. He shrunk at the many birds that glowered at him. Each one gave him their full attention. Their beady eyes reflected his fearful expression, mocking him almost.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and slowly began to retreat out of the circle of feathery judges. When turned, he saw something standing only feet away from him. It was a girl dressed in white. Her dark hair fell down her back. She looked young, only a few years older than him.

It was Bianca. He could recognize the back of her head anywhere.

His heart leapt with joy. His sister was alive. A smile finally cracked on his face. He ran towards his sister. All he wanted at that moment was to embrace her, to know she was alive.

He felt something snag his foot. He fell had down on his face. Stones bit into his skin and cut him deeply. His hands were raw against the cold dirt. He looked over his shoulder to find his foot caught in a tree root. His jaw clenched as he continued onward. No stupid root was keeping him from his sister. But as he grabbed onto the ground, thorns dug deep into his flesh. Droplets of blood splashed onto the dirt. He did not care as he moved on.

Something snared his wrists like cuffs. Thorny vines crushed his wrists and tethered his hands to the cold ground. He wanted to scream out, but he knew he had endured worse. He struggled against the vines. He was so close to her; he couldn't let go. He strained one hand out for her and it felt like his wrist was about to snap off.

When his fingertips were inches from the edge of her dress; she vanished into mist. His heart dropped like a rock.

No, he could not lose her against when he was so close to her!

"_Let go of me…"_ He heard her voice whisper around him. _"Let go of me, Nico… It will only cause you more pain…"_

"No…!" He cried. "I can't lose you! You're all I have!"

But she did not respond. Instead, an evil laughter rolled on the wind, chilling him to the bone. The crows chorused their strangled calls. In their sheer numbers it was deafening. Nico struggled to cover his ears but the veins would not release him. He looked over his shoulder to see a swarm of black swooped towards him, even beak glittering like a knife.

The last thing remembered was something cold, like a hand, brushing against his cheek.

-x-

He woke up with a jolt. His eyes shot wide and searched desperately for any signs of the crows that were hunting him down. The coast was clear. The only thing out of order was a black and blue Christmas present sitting on the other side of the bed. Slowly he sat up and took a good look at it. Yup, that was definitely a Christmas present. But who would send him one? Hades? Pft, not likely.

He plucked the small envelope from under the shimmering black ribbon. He turned it over his hands and noticed the white wax seal and odd insignia. It was a crescent mood attached to a star. Inside the moon there was a small script in ancient Greek.

"_Long Live the Night"_

He frowned at the message. He opened it and pulled the letter inside. It was delicately written in ancient Greek with purple ink. Even if the language came naturally to him, he needed to take a moment to make out the elegant script.

_Dear Nico,_

_A very happy Christmas to you, dear .Sadly, it has come to my aware that you have undergone a most tragic loss. You have my deepest sympathies for the loss of your sister. However, I am also aware that you are needed in your father's presence, yet I do love guests in the Underworld and I also adore Christmas. I send this gift and letter in invitation to tea with myself in the Erebus realm. I am certain you saw it as you passed by. If you do not know your way back then I shall send you an escort._

_I await your presence with eagerness. Sadly, the garments you wear currently are atrocious. So, please accept these new one. I expect you to be dressed in it so I can see how adorable you look._

_Yours Sincerely,  
Nyx_

Finally he remembered what had been bothering him since he had met Hypnos. Nyx was the one connected to all of this. The goddess of the night. She was mother to many gods with darker attributes, Thanatos, Hypnos, Nemesis, Eris, and even the Fates. If she was so powerful; then why did she bother someone like him? He was just an orphaned demigod. But it seemed he had the chance to get answers from the source.

He drew the ribbon off the gift and ripped the paper from the box. He dug inside and found multiple items. There was a fresh pair of dark jeans, a black shirt, and a large aviator jacket. He folded out the jacket and frowned. He'd have to be twice his size to fill it. However, feeling the inside he noticed how warm it was. He quickly changed into the warm, clean clothes and gave a small sigh of relief. Seems there was such a thing as kindness after all.

Before he turned towards the door he noticed something at the bottom of the box. It was a small velvet box. He plucked it and opened the top. Inside was a ring in the shape of a skull. Its eyes glinted a menacing red. Yet he found it very cool. He slipped it onto his hand and admired it for a moment.

There was a knock at the door. His head snapped up and looked towards it with confusion. That letter had been eerily accurate. Slowly, he made his way towards it and pulled it open. Standing on the other side of the threshold was a tall man in a black trench coat and a hood covering his face. He could see the silver whiskers of a short beard peeking out from the shadow. He could see the stormy eyes glinting in the pale light.

"I have been sent to escort you." He spoke in a baritone voice, mature.

Nico felt a wave of fear pass over him. He had no idea who this person was, but he was absolutely terrifying.

"Okay…" He muttered.

The man's chin tilted up for a moment. He could feel his eyes glowering at him, but with what emotions… Who did people think he was? Bella Swan? (Don't ask him how he knew that, it was Bianca)

"You're scared." The man noted flatly. "Sorry about that."

He grabbed the edge of his hood and pulled it down. The man's face was not how Nico imagined it. He was young, maybe in his early twenties. His hair was a sandy blonde that fell over his right eye. The eye showing was a swirl of colour. The beard he had seen earlier was non-existent. He was also certain the man had shortened himself by a few inches.

When he spoke, his voice was far younger sounding. It was light; kind.

"Alright, that should be better." He gave a cheeky smile. "Anyway, you're being expected by someone very important."

He placed a hand at Nico's back and led him into the hall. He looked at the torches and their flames died instantly. The hallway was perfectly dark. The man walked directly forward, leading Nico the way there. The boy was absolutely certain there was a wall they were about to run into. Yet he felt nothing crashing against his nose. They walked in the shadowy corridor for a few minutes in complete silence. Finally, the man came to a halt where cracks of light made the shape of a doorway.

"You think you're presentable?" the man questioned.

Nico looked down at himself and quickly realized he saw nothing in the darkness.

"Well, I'm wearing what she told me to." He replied.

"Good enough." The man likely shrugged.

He reached out to the door and pushed it open. Nico's eyes widened in wonder as the new world around him came into view.

He doubted he was in the Underworld anymore.


	5. Underworlder

The world was like a monochrome English shire. The buildings were old fashioned with traditional pioneer woodwork. The only thing odd about it was that everything was on the greyscale. It was not depressing without colour, in fact; he found it quite interesting but the fact that everything seemed so surreal. He looked down at the cobblestone street which stretched out into a circle of buildings closely built together with small gap pathways in between.

The sky above was the perfect night sky. Shooting stars skated across the sky one right after the other. It reminded him briefly of simple fireworks. The moon was full and glowed like a pale sun that illuminated the dark town.

"She's excited to meet you." His escort said aloud. The blond looked up at the sky. "She only ever puts on the fireworks if she's in a good mood."

"Why would she be excited to see me?" Nico asked, frowning and brows furrowing. He was nothing special.

His escort shrugged. "I dunno." He admitted. "She likes kids. And you're Hades' kid. Guess that means you're a fellow Underworlder."

He continued to walk, a steady saunter. He unzipped his coat to reveal a blue and brown striped shirt and regular old blue jeans. He stuffed his hands into his pants pocket and walked towards one of the buildings. Nico could make out the picture on the hanging sign. It was a teacup with steam lines over it; the universal symbol for café, from his aware.

"What do you mean by _Underworlder_?" Nico asked at last.

"It means you're of the Underworld. Whether you were born there or you are descended from someone who lives here." The man answered. "I was born here, making me an Underworlder, and you are the son of an Underworlder, making you also one. See how it works?"

"Do you call demigods descended from Olympian gods an Olympian then?" Nico continued to inquire.

The man sneered at the name. He gave an annoyed sigh and glared forward.

"If you want to get along here, you won't even mention those high-top jackasses." He said coldly. "Underworlders and Olympians have never gotten along, and neither have the demigods, or even their descendants."

Nico frowned. That was allot to take in. And yet, it made sense. While at camp, he never felt accepted. Even stuck in a cabin overflowing with kids, they all leered away from him. It reminded him of that damned military school, except far worse. Not only did he not have Bianca with him, but he was still a foreigner in a place he was promised acceptance.

Percy had been the one who promised him that. He was among demigods, almost everyone was friendly. Maybe the bastard was just trying to torture him further. One of the many lies the son of Poseidon would sprout that made the poor boy want to take his head and smash his face into a pile of barbed wire.

The man cleared his throat. Nico's head snapped from his dark thought and looked up at him.

"Keep your anger and hatred to a minimum." He warned.

"But I didn't say anything." Nico replied, raising a brow.

"No," The man agreed. "But your emotions radiate you hot enough to boil the Arctic Ocean."

Nico opened his mouth to question, but he could think of nothing to ask. He looked down and tried to think about how the other could do such a trick. If it was an empathy link (as Grover told him about the one he had with he-who-shall-not-be-named) then why could he not feel the other's emotions or communicate with his mind?

He glanced briefly over his shoulder to look from where they emerged. The black clock tower rose high and stabbed the sky with a needle-like point. Inside was a large black bell which was seen through the archway high on each side, swooping under the clock. It was an impressive building that sat in the centre of the village.

The man turned a corner behind one of the long rows of dark shops knitted together in one long complex. Nico jogged to keep up. When he turned the corner, he slammed into his escort's back. He stumbled back and rubbed his now-aching nose. The blond simply smirked down at him, stifling a laugh. He looked forward and gave a small gesture with his hand. Nico followed his gaze and his eyes widened.

Sitting in the small outdoor café set-up was the woman he had seen earlier. The only difference was that her hair was let down from tight bun to flow over her pale shoulders. Her French cigarette holder was set aside the table and burning a bright white with no smoke rising from it. She held a teacup and sipped it carefully, savoring it. Her head flicked up and her black eyes focused directly at him. A smile spread across her lips.

His escort pushed him forward. "Don't stand there like an idiot." He muttered. "She's waiting."

Nico felt his nerves skyrocket. This woman was Nyx, the most powerful goddess alive… And he had about as much edict as a cow. The last thing he needed was to insult her and get incinerated on the spot. Then again, she could probably do something allot worse if she could make other gods fear her.

His legs felt stiff, and yet they were off the ground. Two hands gripped his arm and lifted him from the ground. His entire body stiffened. His escort carried him over to the café area and sat him down on the chair across the table from Nyx.

Nyx tilted her chin up to look at Nico's escort. She smiled pleasantly at him.

"Thank you so much for your help, Morphie." She chirped. "You are such a gem."

Nico's head slowly craned up to look at his escort. _Morphie_? His name was _Morphie_? The corners of his lips turned up into a mischievous smile. _Morphie's_ cheeks burned a bright pink and he looked like he was ready to link back into the shadows. Nico had to repress a laugh. It seemed so out of character for the other to become flustered. And yet, it gave him a bit of self-confidence.

"Grandmother," Morphie said in a strained, whining tone. "Please don't call me that with people other than family around… Better yet, don't call me that at all. Morpheus or Morph is just fine."

Nico leaned away again and his eyes widened. Okay, so Morphie was a pet-name for Morpheus by his grandmother, Nyx. He took a long moment to register the information. So far, he has met an odd old man with the ability to vanish, Hypnos, Charon, Persephone (who he had a great disliking of already), his father (who did not give him much of a better impression), Morpheus, god of dreams, and Nyx, likely the woman who would make it or break it for him.

Wow, that was allot met in only about two days.

Nyx pouted at Morpheus. "But calling you Morphie is cute, like you." She argued.

Morpheus's blush worsened. He raised his hand in surrender.

"That's it, I'm out." He announced. He reached down to pat Nico on the shoulder. "See you around, kid."

Morpheus left the small café area and disappeared around the corner. Nico's focused returned to Nyx. The goddess trailed her dark eyes over him, attentive and observing. His heart clenched slightly as his eyes trailed down to figure out what she was looking at. He was wearing the clothing that she had given him. Was he wearing something wrong?

She gave a happy sigh and her eyes focused on his face. "I was spot on with your new clothing. You look absolutely darling!" She said happily.

Nico blushed a bit and gave a nervous smile. "Th-thank you for the clothing." He said nervously.

Nyx waved her hand dismissively. "It was a pleasure." She assured. "But no need to be nervous, dear. I'm not here to harm you, and so long as you're here, no one else will harm you either."

He felt his nerves begin to ease. The woman seemed truthful, and she did not have much reason to lie to him. He was nothing special anyway other than possibly the only child of Hades. Even if she had planned to use him as a bargaining tool against Hades, it would not do much good. His father did not seem all that caring of him. He would be sacrificed with not much more than a passing glance.

"Do you care for something to drink or eat?" Nyx questioned. "Juice? Nectar? Maybe a few sweets and ambrosia to satisfy your hunger?"

Not until she mentioned food did he realize how hungry he was. His stomach gave a loud, rude growling noise. He blushed and pressed his hands against his stomach. He gave an awkward nod.

Nyx's smile widened a bit more. She raised her hand and flicked her fingers, as if calling someone over. He followed her gaze and found another odd thing in this realm. A silhouette of a woman holding a tray of something walked out from inside the café. However, she was not crawling along with walls, but three dimensional like any other person, except everything about her (excluding what she was holding) was a shadow. She looked like she was wearing a dress with frilled sleeves around the shoulders. In her hands she held a silver tray with a jug of apple juice, a cup, a plate of ambrosia squares, and another plate of small cakes and cookies.

The shadow approached them at a steady pace and set the food and beverage down on the table. Nico could now see more detail in the creature. She had dark shades that showed detail in her clothing and on her face. However, her eyes were bright blue orbs that had no pupils or retina. She had long, pointed ears like an elf.

She poured the glass full of apple juice and set it before him and the pitcher in the middle. She tucked the empty tray under her arm and bowed to Nyx before hurrying back into the café.

Nico could not stop himself from asking. "What was that thing?"

Nyx gave a small laugh and lifted a square of ambrosia onto a smaller plate and handed it to him.

"A shadow nymph, dear." She answered calmly. "They were created during my husband's younger years, when he had so much excess energy new life forms were created without his knowing. The nymphs were one of them. Playful, mischievous creatures and they make such wonderful help. Now, eat up. You're withering away, you're so thin."

Nico took the square from the plate and sunk his teeth into it. He had ambrosia a few time before at Camp Half-Blood and yet every time he ate a piece the taste blew his mind. It tasted like a mixture of delicious things; chocolate cake, pistachio ice-cream, and even the brownies from the small bakery in DC that he adored. Bianca bought him a few once when she had some spare change. Even though he'd love to eat it all for himself, he would always split it in two and give her one half, despite her denying.

His mind suddenly flashed back to the present to find Nyx staring at him with a small, amused smile. She held her tea cup with both hands, like she was distracted by him from taking a sip. He almost choked when he realized how rude he must have looked stuffing his face like a pig. He swallowed and took one of the white napkins to wipe his face.

She laughed again. "You are just so adorable." She mused. "You remind me of Morpheus when he looked about your age." She took a moment to sip her tea. "My apologies for his rudeness, by the way. He just has so much on his mind; he almost got lost on his way to fetch you."

"It's alright." Nico assured. He was suddenly reminded of something. "You sent him to fetch me, right?" He questioned. "Did you, by any chance-"

"Send Hypnos and the man you met in the park?" She finished his sentence. "Well, I did ask my dear Erebus to give you a bit of help along the way. However, he became tired and told Hypnos to do it if he wanted his grounding over with."

Nico blinked. How could she possible know all of that? And how could she send Erebus to help him? He was certain the realm he was in was Erebus. Maybe the man was a shadow nymph as well?

"Erebus is my husband, Nico." She said, sounding a bit annoyed, maybe even offended. But she had seemed to read his mind, which was more concerning, he found. "Many writers have tried to stomp him out of existence by influence of the Olympian gods." She further explained. "You may have heard I gave birth to my children at will, but they were made the same way you were, with the help of another."

Nico tried not to think about that. He shrunk a bit in his seat. There it was again, another sharp response about the Olympians. What had had happened between these _Underworlders_ and them anyway? But the way Nyx got offended about him not knowing her husband gave him a bit of a clue. Maybe he was the key to this hatred.

She waved her hand passively. "But, that is water under the bridge now." She assured with a kind smile. "I am merely happy that you arrived here safe. You are quite the talk these days."

"Why's that?" He asked curiously. It interested him. After all, she had to see something in him that would make her go through so much trouble for a kid she never met before.

Her smile became devious. Her dark eyes glinting with mischief, as if she had waited until he had asked her that. She rested her elbows on the table and laced her slender finger together. She rested her chin on her hands and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes.

"That's a secret." She answered. "But just know, Nico, that you are more important than you think."

He opened his mouth to argue, but goddess placed a small slice of cake and a cookie on his plate. She made a gesture to continue eating. Apparently the large ambrosia square was not enough for her to call a real snack. He had a feeling she was going to dodge his question anyway. So, sullenly he picked up the small, thin fork and indulged in the delicious cheesecake.

They were silent for a time. Nyx sipped her tea and took small forkfuls of her ambrosia. She looked thoughtful. Her eyes seemed both focused and distant, like she was imagining something about him. Nico wondered about what the secret she had mentioned was. There was something that always annoyed him about everything was that everyone always had some sort of secret kept from him. Whether it was about why everyone was laughing at him behind his back, or what likely-life-threatening game the gods were playing at.

"Would you like to stay here, Nico?" Nyx suddenly asked.

Nico jumped a bit. What an odd thing to ask, especially out of thin air.

"What do you mean?" He questioned suspiciously, raising a brow at the goddess's generosity.

"Would you like to stay here, in this realm?" She repeated. "Live here, if you like. I am well aware you do not have a home. So, I extend mine to you."

Nico was shocked. She was offering him a home? He took a quick look around at the world around him. Though it was dark, it was nice. It was peaceful and surreal. It had an old-timely feel to it, and it made it more cozy in a sense. A small village where everyone knew each other and were all friendly made him smile inside. Maybe he should take her up on her offer. He was certain this place held even more wonders just waiting for him to be discovered. It was a whole new world brimming with adventure.

However, he remembered his father. Hades expected him to stay in his palace. Then again, the only kindness he's found so far was here. Nyx had not only given him new clothing and filled his empty stomach with tasty sweets, she had offered him a real place to stay, maybe even call home. And yet something deep within him made him feel bad about not being there to at least scream at his father a bit.

Perhaps this was moving too fast. After all, he was still lost within himself. He had no real reason to find a real place to stay until he figured out what to do with himself.

"Thank you, Lady Nyx." He said politely. "I'd really like to stay here, but… There is still allot I need to figure out. If I do stay here, I'll be in and out constantly." Or he figured such.

Nyx frowned from a moment, clearly disappointed. However, a small, weak smile forced its way onto her lips.

"I understand." She assured, but her voice faltered slightly, as if she was highly unwilling. "But, please, while you're in the Underworld, consider this place always free for you to stay, and when you're ready, call your home."

Nico smiled a bit. She was surprisingly understanding, a relief. "Thank you, my lady."

Nyx waved her hand passively once more. "Please, it is a pleasure. I absolutely adore guests, especially those as cute and polite as you. So, please, take your time and explore. When you're tired, find the large estate right of the main square. I have already prepared a room for you to wash up and rest."

The demigod rose from his seat and tucked in his chair. "Thank you. I'll just take a look around, then."

"Just be back for dinner." Nyx replied.

"How will I know when dinner is?"

She gave another mischievous smile. "Trust me, you will know."

She rose from her seat and the mess on the table vanished into thin air. As she passed him, she gently touched his head and he felt his hair fly free of the grime stuck within and groom itself. He watched her walk away and disappears around the corner.


	6. Erebus

Nico glanced over his shoulder at the shop. He could only faintly see inside where there were a few more of the dark creatures inside, all enjoying cups and plates of whatever. It was fascinating. He had seen a variety of monsters at camp, as well during his brief trip through the underworld via the demon bat-lady. However, these shadow nymphs were interesting, peaceful and not really scary at all. He briefly remembered who pretty the tree nymphs and lake naiads at camp were. These creatures, however, looked allot more human in a way.

He wandered back into the square. He noticed a few more of the shadow nymphs wandering around the cobblestone roads. They made this place look even more old fashioned. They wore suits, top hats, paper-boy caps, large sunhats, and long dresses. He noticed one leading a large black horse with furry hooves. What was weird about the beast was that it had bright red eyes, like the equestrian-version of a hell-hound.

He walked towards the centre next to the large clock tower. He glanced up at the iron hands which pointed towards Roman numerals large enough to make it past his dyslexia. But there was something weird. He saw someone in the bell's arches. They were sitting, resting their back against the brick. One leg hung over the edge and swung absent-mindedly.

Nico narrowed his eyes. There was something oddly familiar about that figure. He took a few steps closer. He could see the figure staring at him with very cold, judgemental eyes.

It was the girl from yesterday, the one with Nyx!

"Hey!" He called to her. "Who are you?"

The girl did not reply. Her eyes moved their attention to something in the sky. Nico's followed. He found that the shooting stars had halted. Clouds slowly began to cover the bright moon. The once brilliant stars had dulled to tiny white specks in the sky. He looked around at the town and discovered where the nymphs were going. They all headed towards the indoors. Shops turned their _open_ signs to _closed_ and drew the curtains and drapes. As quickly as they arrived, they were gone. As was the moon.

Nico looked back up at the tower and the girl was gone as well. He heard a thud, like someone landing after a high jump. He ducked around the clock tower and saw her. She ran without looking back. He noticed something weird about her. She seemed almost lopsided when she moved, like one leg was shorter than the other. He followed after her as fast as he could. She ducked around a building the second he was close enough to grab her ponytail. When he turned the corner, like Nyx, she was gone.

"What in Hades is going on…?" He muttered to himself.

"What's wrong, kid?" A voice said from behind.

Nico spun on his heels. Morpheus was standing a few feet back. His hands were in his pockets and his expression was concerned. There was something more intimidating about him now that the boy knew who he really was. It would be nice to find at least one normal kid around here. However, Morpheus did not seem too bad. His ability to change shape was a bit creepy, but he has been quite kind so far, unlike Hypnos who had a nasty habit of invading all personal space.

"Is there a girl who lives here?" He asked.

Morpheus smiled slightly but his eyes were hiding something. "Of course there are girls here; my aunts and cousins."

"She didn't look very godly to me." Nico muttered. What was the god hiding from him this time? "She has long hair in a ponytail, and this little axe and some… I've only ever seen it on the Russian flag." He made the movement of a crescent.

"A sickle." Morpheus interjected. "And that's from the Soviet Union; Russia's now its own democratic country." He beamed a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, one of those." Nico raised a brow. "And she ran with a limp."

Morpheus shifted his weight from foot to foot. He wiped his forehead briefly, something Nico was taught in school that was a giveaway for a lie.

"No one with a limp here." He replied. "Unless one of the nymphs hurt themselves."

When Nico tried to call him out on it, the god grabbed his arm and led him along the back of the building. The boy closed his mouth. If the gods would continue dodging his questions, he would find his own answers. The only question was, as always, why he was hiding it. Why was the girl supposed to be kept a secret? Was she important? Or she could be a shame to the gods; dust under the rug, as it were. Now he had to know who this girl was.

The road opened up once again. The cobblestone path was sided completely by shops and apartments. All the shops were closed; the signs hanging on the inside of the glass doors said that much. There was no faint light coming from inside (not that he was certain there was e_ver_ light inside) and the curtains were drawn to cover (most) of the windows. He saw one last nymph duck inside the closest building. The door slammed shut with an echo across the hollow streets.

"What's wrong with this place?" Nico asked. His brows furrowed with concern.

Morpheus cleared his throat and gave a bashful expression. "Well…" He began, the same way anyone would a lie. "The nymphs are a bit… nervous. There's been allot going on in the past while and so they're early to home after the workday is finished."

Interesting, he mused. He remembered seeing the traffic in New York two and from the working inner city. However, people seemed to always work long hours and rushed from place to place. Even though he only got a brief glimpse at this town of shadow-people, they never seemed to be rushing. Sure, they were gone in the blink of the eye, but no one was screaming for others to move out of the way like the many boisterous taxi drivers of the big city.

The road started to incline. The buildings stopped closing the streets to give view of the dark valley outside. The grass was odd, with shades of black, blue, and dark green. Ahead was a large iron-wrought fence. The road lead up to a large, spired gate. Two tall pillars stood on either side, both made of smooth black granite. Dark marble statues of dragons wrapped their serpentine bodies around both pillars and perched their front claws on the flat top as if they were waiting to pounce on anyone who drew near. Their eyes were ebony; smooth and black as a starless night, and glowering at all those who came near.

Morpheus flicked his wrist and the gate wretched open slowly. Nico was lead inside. His eyes widened when he found what the dragons had been guarding.

A mansion stood on the top of the hill. Like the rest of the village, it was old fashioned, Victorian, maybe, except it held more than three storeys. It had large porch wrapped around it along with rather wide windows. Ivy the same odd colour of the grass climbed the sides of the house and intertwined along the frames of windows. Steps lead up to the doorway. On either side perched two more pillars with statues. Though smaller than the ones at the gate, these had large obsidian ravens perched atop orbs, looking in opposite directions.

Nico shrunk slightly at the statues. He could feel the statues glaring at him from the corner of their stony eyes. His foot pressed down on the first step with a large creak. It echoed over the quiet landscape and announced his arrival better than any bell. Morpheus followed close after him like a looming shadow. The boy's ADHD mind quickly wondered if people could produce shadows in this realm. After all, this was the homage of dark doppelgangers, right?

The door opened before either of the two could knock. No one was there to greet them, merely an empty, open foyer. Morpheus dusted his shoes off on the rug outside, Nico followed suit. They passed the threshold and the door slowly creaked to a close.

Nico's breath caught in his throat. The interior was absolutely stunning. It was just like he would imagine a mansion, only allot darker. The walls were a dark stained mahogany, indented in places for artistic taste. The foyer floor was black marble, glinting in the dim light from a recent polish. A blood red carpet was the pathway to the large staircase which broke into two parts to the upper floor. At the base of the stairs were two large vases that bloomed with whitish-blue flowers that glowed. Two other doorways branched out on either side of the room. Above hung the largest chandelier he had ever seen. It was white like ivory and glowed with an eerie blue light like the potted flowers, only brighter.

In the centre of the staircase, staring at all those who entered, was a large painting of two people. A politely smiling woman sat while a man with a stoic face stood next to her. They both wore elegant clothing from and older era, likely Victorian, as the house was. The woman wore a black gown along with corset. She was decorated in jewelry, but the familiar pale face was young and beautiful. The man's skin was dark and his eyes darker. He was clean shaven, but his hair was hidden under a black top hat. One hand reached down to touch the back of the woman's chair, just above her shoulder, while the other clutched onto the head of cane.

"Nyx and Erebus." Morpheus answered Nico's unspoken question. "When Erebus was healthier, at least."

Nico frowned. He remembered Nyx had told him Erebus was the one who he had met at the park. However, the man in the portrait looked nothing like him, other than clothing. The man he had met was old and bitter. The painted version stood a man tall and proud; young and powerful. It did not seem possible.

"Erebus is sick?" He questioned.

Morpheus sighed softly. "You'll understand what I mean later tonight." He said quietly before moving onward.

Nico followed the dream god through the left passageway. Paintings, statues, and small tables decorated with pots of exotic flowers lined the corridor. The boy was never much for art, but everything in the hall was breathtakingly detailed. He could see emotion in every face, the detail of every brush stroke, expanding into a glorious scene or portrait. Some depicted scenes of Ancient Greece and Rome, people in tunics and togas either fighting or standing around and speaking, some even with monsters. Others looked like they were from the renaissance, maybe even some painted by Leonardo di Vinci himself.

The hall opened into a large rectangular room. A long dark wood table spanned along the middle of the room, rounded by tables, the largest and most elegant on the far end. Large windows crawled up the walls of the room, allowing the pale night light to seep inside. A grand piano sat in the corner, glossy black in colour. A large fireplace was in the centre of the room opposite of the windows. Hanging above the mantel was a large landscape portrait of a snowy, mountainous area. In the centre of the table was a large silver pirate ship that glinted in the pale light of the room. Three small chandeliers hung overhead, the middle one slightly larger and lower than the others. It hung directly above the silver ship.

Few people were already sitting at the table. An older teenager with his hood over his eyes sat next to a creepy man with a bald head covered in tattoos, both of which were talking with each other, occasionally giving quiet, evil laughs. A dark skinned woman sat opposite of them, watching them while turning her knife over her hands. Another was an oriental woman, completely still and silent with a tall pale man in a fine suit next to her. But then, on the far corner of the table, he saw the girl from earlier, sitting wordlessly.

Nico instantly drifted towards her. If he could keep her cornered, maybe he could finally get the answers he wanted. She gave no sign of noticing his approach. He reached out grab the only chair next to her, but Morpheus occupied it as fast as he could blink. The two nodded at each other in silent greeting. He frowned and took up the seat on the other side of the dream god.

Nico leaned over the table slightly to get a better look at the girl past his escort, but the other merely leered forward as well. The boy's jaw locked in a sneer. Why was Morpheus trying to put a wall between him and likely the only other mortal in the entire Underworld? He tried to push the blond back in order to speak to her. Sadly, Morpheus was quite determined to stay obviously in the way.

"Hey." He called quietly to the girl. "You're the girl from the clock tower, right?"

The girl's eyes slowly rolled to look at him from the corners. They were an eerie green colour, like swamp water. Her cold, unfriendly expression did not make her seem any more attractive. Despite the clear aura of "_don't talk to me"_ covering her like a cloak, the boy pressed on.

"What's your name?" But the girl did not answer.

"Olivia." A familiar voice answered.

Hypnos grinned tiredly at Nico and plopped down comfortably in the seat next to him. He was wearing different clothing (likely because his other ones were damp from his _swim_ in the Styx. He was wearing a dark red, baggy open sweater over a black band shirt (which Nico could not read the name of) along with purple skinny jeans and no shoes or socks.

Nico also noticed that the room had filled with other people, all of them human-like and ranging in ages. They all spoke quietly amongst each other, some even passing him suspicious looks. However, their voices were too quiet for him to hear and the only one seemingly wanting to talk to him was Hypnos.

But as soon as they filled the room, they went dead silent. All heads turned to look at the far head of table. Quickly they rose to their feet (Hypnos, Morpheus, and _Olivia_) so he followed suit. He felt like they were soldiers, saluting their commanding officer, a common thing to occur when he was still at school. Two people entered; an elder man and a middle-aged woman: Nyx and Erebus. Nico could feel his body tense. The man was no doubt the one he saw in the park. Even though he was not wearing his top hat, his stature and suit were a dead giveaway.

However, seeing him in better light drained him of the fear and intimidation he had felt when he first saw the other and replaced it with pity. The man looked so weak. He was bent over his cane despite it looking like Nyx was trying to hold him upright. He pulled back the chair slowly, swatting away the helping hand someone offered with a bitter sneer. Shaking, he lowered himself onto the seat with Nyx carefully hoisting him down. He grumbled when he sat and Nyx quickly occupied the chair next to him. One by one the others at the table resumed their seats.

Shadow nymphs swept into the room, carrying silver trays filled with food. The alluring smells of fine cuisine occupied the air. They were placed down on the table like a personal buffet, along with empty goblets and bowls of salad. He watched as Erebus was served first. Nyx, assisted by a nymph dressed as a maid, lifted a rare steak accompanied by scallop potatoes and an array of vegetables onto his plate. He grimaced at the food and said something quietly to Nyx, causing her to frown briefly before forcing a smile for the rest at the table. Everyone indulged.

Nico sat back and allowed those around him to serve themselves and each other using telekinesis instead of cutlery. Morpheus summoned a healthy portion of everything onto his plate and helped Olivia fill her plate as well (sparsely, as he could see.) Hypnos, on the other hand, was leaned over the table, trying to get the best cuts of chicken and steak. Before the boy could reach out for a crumb, his plate filled automatically, a small cut of steak, half of a large chicken breast, along with a large serving of mixed vegetables. He glanced across the table to find Nyx giving him a kind smile.

Nico offered an awkward smile in return before taking his first forkful. The food danced upon his taste buds. It was the most delicious food he had ever tasted, far better than what they served at camp. Perhaps it was something to do with that this tasted like real food, something a true family would sit down and have, rather than simple easy-to-make meals. Everything had an exotic, rich taste to it.

An hour and a half passed rather quickly. Nico had finished eating only a few minutes prior. The last of the people eating, one of which happened to be a kid not much older than him who resembled Morpheus a bit, finally put down their utensils and leaned back in their seats. All heads turned to look at the head of the table where Erebus sat with his hands folded before him.

The old man's black eyes turned to look at him. He felt a chill rock his spine at the cold expression.

"I hear we have another guest in our midst." Despite his fragile exterior, his deep voice boomed and filled every corner of the room.

Everyone's head turned to look at him. He felt incredibly awkward.

"I thought we were done taking charity cases off the street after Deimos."

The gods in the room chuckled lightly and murmured a bit amongst themselves. The bald man with the tattoos did not join in the humor. Nico could only guess he was Deimos. The attention was taken from the joke as Nyx cleared her throat attentively.

"My dearest family," She said with a smile. "I would all like you to give you warmest greetings to our little guests here, Nico di Angelo, son of Hades."

Nico was glad he was not arrogant and expected a warm greeting because he surly did not get it. The gods of the table all stared at him. Most of them held very bored expressions. He figured they would rather be doing anything at that moment than starting at a random demigod that had been brought into their home. Other seemed a bit angry. Their eyes narrowed at him with head held high. It was almost as if they were… disappointed.

"That's him?" Scoffed a fit man with dark skin that sat directly across from Hypnos. His eyes were harsh with an icy glare. It made the hair on the back of Nico's neck stand up on end. "That is the one whom the Fates called for?" He looked to Nyx. "Mother, if this is your attempt at a joke, try again."

The Fates? What did the Fates have to do with anything? It made him feel quite suspicious of Nyx and her intentions. Naturally, nothing in this world came for free, especially when the gods were involved. There was a catch to anything. Even a simple gift of a sandwich or some water could end up being traded for with a life or a vow of eternal servitude. It was a rather disturbing concept, best he not mull over it too much. He had other things to make him depressed.

Erebus grunted again. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at the scruffy boy.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Thanatos is right." He muttered. "Nyx, this cannot possibly be who your daughters were going on about. It had to have been someone else. Your hearing is as bad as mine, you must have misheard."

Luckily, Nyx looked quite offended by their accusations. Her eyes became stern. He seemed to be the only one spared of her deadly glare. She stared down the many people who surrounded the table. All of them became stiff and nervous. Though he knew Thanatos was the god of death, the deadliest person there seemed to be the night goddess.

"I did not mishear!" She snapped. "This is no joke. This matter is more serious than any that we have faced."

That did not make the boy feel any better. In fact, it made him feel more uncomfortable than the former stares. What was Nyx going on about? A matter so important… What did he have to do with that? It did not seem like anyone was eager to tell with either. It reminded him of his father giving him the cold shoulder. What was going on here and why was the matter so important that he was getting such unwanted attention?

He felt the same burst of bravery that he had felt in the throne room. Despite the far more powerful beings that surrounded him, he rose to his feet as well.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on here?" He asked. His voice was weaker than he had heard in his head. He wanted to sound demanding; he wanted to force the answer out of the bystanders. However, his words quaked like the frightened little child that hid deep within him.

Attention was back on him. Nyx's lips pulled down into a frown. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"You will learn in due time." She assured gently. "For now, you have to wait."

That only sparked more anger. Nico was tired of waiting around for an answer. Things were happening now and he wanted to know what! He was tired of being the last one to be informed of anything! He was tired of being brushed aside when decisions that would affect him were being made! He was not going to let himself be pushed back into the dark by anyone, not even the gods!

"I don't want to know in due time!" He snapped. His eyes flared with an unsettling power once more. "I want to know now! And if you're all going to sit around here and say nothing, than I'm going to find out for myself!"

He knocked away the chair and stormed out of the dining room. He heard a chair scrape the floor and someone call out his name, likely Morpheus. However, he broke into a sprint. He was not going to be held back by anyone. He was going to find out what was so important and what he had to do with it, be it with the help of those who knew or on his own.

He had burst from the mansion and followed the path the dream god had lead him through until he was back at the clock tower. He found the door with ease. It was camouflaged into the brickwork, as if they were trying to hide it from him. However, the gilded doorknob which marked its existence was noticeable enough.

He pulled the door open and rushed through. The darkness melted around him until he could see sthe black on the volcanic ground of the Underworld beneath his feet. The smell of sulfur was as prominent as ever. The stench did not vex him. In fact, it ignited his determination further.

He marched into the uncharted Land of the Dead with no direction; only motive.


	7. The Labyrinth

Nico had no idea how long he had been walking, but he could only hope it had been awhile. With no sun or moon to tell what the time of day it was, his sore limbs were his only tell. However, his endurance was still something to be desired, or at least that was the last thing that Chiron had told him at camp. It could have been hours, days, or only thirty minutes. Either way, he knew he needed to rest. The only problem was that he did not see anywhere safe to rest. He had no idea if people were chasing him. He doubted that Nyx would think kindly of his storming out and his father's guards would have had to notice his absence by now.

How long had he spent in Erebos? It could not have been very long. It felt like only a few hours, but time worked differently in certain realms, or that is what he had been told. It could have been days or seconds. Godly realms were confusing, especially to a kid just starting to learn things about himself.

He stopped walking for a moment to catch his breath. His legs felt incredibly sore. He hunched over and clasped his knees. The motion made him feel dizzy.

Where did he even hope to go? He was in a place that he had no knowledge of. Sure, he had been told that straying from the path led to discovery, but he figured that was meant on a figurative sense or grander scale rather than something simply literal. He had plenty to discover, but he was unsure of the _getting-lost-in-the-Underworld_ was exactly the best method. However, his pride would not allow him to go back for help. No doubt those gods would mock him even more if he went crawling back to them.

His break was cut short at the sound of a screech. His head shot up to find the creature that had carried him to his father's doorstep flying overhead like a vulture. Well, on a slightly positive note, that possibly meant that his father gave somewhat of a flying foot about him.

Nico shot to his feet and broke out into the sprint. He did want to be carried back to his father only to be locked in that room again. Besides that, he did not trust that creature as far as he could throw it (not that he was planning on trying that either!) All he could do was hope to outrun it. But as the screeching became louder, he doubted that option as well.

He was told his ADHD was supposed to be his _battle instincts_. He needed to be aware of everything at any moment, he simply could not be still. He could see what Chiron had meant as his feet kicked up soot behind him. His eyes searched for any path he could take that would obscure and airborne enemy. Trees were usually the best defence. However, in the landscape of the Underworld, he was as likely to find a tree as he would to see a living person. The only other option was to find cover and hide.

He could hear the large bat wings beat against the thick air. He was in a classic nightmare situation. No matter how fast he ran, the monster behind him was always faster. The difference between a nightmare and his situation was that his situation was real.

He could feel the wings blow air against his back. He could feel it sweep the back of his neck. He was a goner.

The ground gave out from under his right foot. The air rushed from his lungs as he collapsed to the ground. His body hit the ashen earth and rolled down into a ditch. A powerful screech rumbled above him. From the corner of his eye he saw the demon swoop overhead and sore higher into the sky. Either the creature had given up its pursue or assumed he was dead.

Nico gasped for breath at last. He slowly rolled from his side to his stomach and pushed up from the ground. His legs felt far shakier and the sharp rocks on the incline had given him a number of cuts and ripped at the jacket Nyx had given him. If he was to see Nyx again, he doubted she would be pleased at the sight.

He dusted himself off with a small, disgusted groan. He rose to his feet and properly took in his surroundings. The ditch was deep. Looking at the slant, he had rolled down quite a few feet. He could not see anything overhead, only the reddish-black sky above. He gave a soft sigh and gave the ditch a proper look around. As he looked over his shoulder, he was taken aback.

There was a doorway dug into the other wall. A frame of brimstone bricks carved with ancient runes and pictures. Ash was dusted onto it which made it difficult for him to make out. However, one thing he did notice was Greek delta; ∆.

He knew this was the Underworld and things like a random doorway in the middle of a ditch would probably be normal. And yet he was still confused, even a little bit frightened. It seemed almost too convenient. The pathway was dark a dreary. Standing before its threshold, it loomed over him like the maw of a great beast.

Should he enter? Should he find a different way out of the ditch?

A screech echoed overhead. The wail burned his eardrums to the point he had almost crumpled into a fettle position At least he had his answer now.

He ran through the threshold and into the dark corridor which could stretch on for miles. The walls were black and smelled of brimstone and ash. His head began to feel heavy from the scent. Nico pressed his hand against the wall to keep him supported. Oddly enough, the stone did not burn him. It felt moist and slippery, like rocks you would find around the edges of swamps.

Nico could no longer hear the wails of the creature. He would be safe here, but he had to keep moving. The last thing he needed was that creature figuring out where he had escaped to. He trekked further into the dank, dark hallway. His footsteps echoed throughout the darkness. His hand trailed against the slippery stone walls. It was the only thing that assured him where he was.

Up ahead he could see a dim light glowing in the distance. But, to him, it was a shining beacon of hope. He set go the wall and ran towards him. Perhaps this long corridor was simply a tunnel. Maybe he would not be stuck in it forever. As he neared the light source, his steps slowed. His heart sank like a rock in his chest.

He stumbled into a crossway of four separate passages, each lit by a single torch. This was not a passage at all. It had to be some sort of maze. Why would something like this exist in the underworld? Was it perhaps a pathway for heroes to deceive his father and manage to enter and escape unharmed? However, though the other three passages were dimly lit, there seemed to be no exit.

With a hard swallow, Nico took the left passage. It was better lit than the others. At least the eeriness lessened somewhat.

He walked on for what seemed to be an hour. His hand trailed against the walls and every crossroad he found himself at, he continued to take the best lit route. As he walked, he noticed a change in the walls. The stone became metal and rounded overhead of him. The dim light was no longer the source of torches, but of dim electric bulbs that hung overhead on a string of wires. Instead of his feet tapping against rock, they clanged against metal. Water dripped from the ceiling and plummeted to the steal walkway he was now stepping on.

_Drip, drip, drip._

He was in some sort of maintenance pipe. How in Hades did he get there? What happened to the brimstone and ash? Though that scent made his head light, the new musky stench made his stomach churn. The flickering lights made his eye feel sore and the constant clanging was giving him a headache.

He stopped at another crossroads. He leaned against the metal handrail and tried to relax. But it seemed there was no time for that.

He heard footsteps echo down the passage ahead of him. A light of a torch flickered in the distance and steadily came closer.

"_Mierda_!" The bitter cuss the echoed was from a boy (Latino or Spanish by the sound of the word) likely around his sister's age. "Where in Hades am I now?"

Nico's heart leapt into his throat and beat against his chest like a steel drum. Though a companion through this place may have been a good thing, his first reaction was panic. How could someone else get in here? How could someone else be down here? Did he enter from the same way he had come? Or was he right about the tunnels being passages for heroes? Either way, a bitter distrust for anyone and everyone filled him.

His next reaction was to run. He needed to put as much distance between himself and whoever as fast as possible. He took the right passage and sprinted. His feet clanged against the iron walkway and echoed in the vast emptiness of the damp cavern. That was perhaps not his most intelligent decision. He could hear a second pair of footsteps clanking from behind him. Naturally the other had heard him.

"Who's there?" He heard the voice call out. Nico's heart took up most of his hearing with its harsh beating, but the voice sounded scared and uncertain.

Nico glanced quickly over his shoulder. The light was directly behind him and quickly glowing brighter. He needed to move faster. But he was exhausted and his legs felt like they were scraping against walls of needles every time he moved. But he had to keep moving. What if that boy was from Camp Half-Blood sent to drag him back to that personal hell? The idea terrified him. Could they really find him in some maze in the Underworld?

His ADHD mind failed to take notice of the obvious. His gut made contact with a metal rail. The air was knocked from him lungs. He crumpled to the ground, his hands sliding down the slick gate that saved him from plummeting to the oddly coloured water below. His heart continued to hammer against his chest as he stared down into the liquid. It could not be water. Voices cried as the fell from the pipes overhead to mix with mess fifty feet under the walkway.

The footsteps got louder and the clanging rang in his skull like a toy drum. He looked over his shoulder. The boy was nearly upon him. The torchlight burned his eyes. He lifted a frail hand to shield himself from the light. He could tell that the other was older than him and not wearing the orange t-shirt of the camp. However, the celestial bronze sword strapped to his side did not make him feel any safer.

"Who are you?" The boy demanded. His hand gingerly skimmed over the blade's handle. "How did you get down here? Are you a demigod or something?"

Nico was too stunned to speak. He was dead. He would die in this strange sewer and no one would know. If only he had kept a weapon from camp he might stand a fighting chance. But it was celestial bronze against bare hands. The winner in such a conflict was clear before it even begun.

The sound of metal being unsheathed made time slow down around him. This boy was really going to kill him. But he did not do anything! Why did he deserve such a fate? Was it some sort of punishment for running away? Perhaps it was not all that bad. After all, maybe he could reunite with Bianca in the afterlife.

"Whoever you are, you're coming with me." The blade was fully unsheathed.

Nico's eyes squeezed shut and he held to the railing with an iron grip. His body trembled with fear. Not even running through the Underworld was as absolutely terrifying as that very moment. With a choked sob that ruptured in his chest, he braced himself.

_Someone… please save me._

'_Fear not, my liege._' A voice rattled around in his head like a warning hiss of a snake ready to attack.

A chill ran down the young demigod's spine, and yet, he stopped quivering. His eyes slowly opened to find a misty being standing in between himself and his enemy. It was a ghost. Though he was vapour, Nico could make out the robes he was wearing. He looked of Greek royalty. But, at the given moment, he looked like a guardian angel.

'_I shall protect you.'_

The ghost raised a hand towards the other boy. He tensed and his eyes grew as wide as discus. The sword slipped from his finger tips and clambered onto the iron walkway and echoed throughout the sewer. His hands trembled like leaves in the fall. His mouth fell agape as words failed to form their way through a dry mouth. The ghost moved closer and the boy steadily began to back away. Step by step he slowly retreated, but the ghost continued to hover closer at a painfully slow pace. The terror in the air hung like silent screams. Though the ghost promised to protect Nico, he was just as scared as the boy who was likely about to kill him only a moment ago.

The ghost stretched his arm out just a bit farther. His misty fingertip reached to touch the armed boy's forehead ever so lightly.

The most vicious and pain-filled screech erupted from the boy. He clasped his head and flailed about like a fish out of water. He banged against the guardrails as he stumbled back to put more distance between himself and the ghost, whom had now lowered his hand. The boy's wails became desperate cries which occasionally broke into more broke into more terrified screams. He fell to his knees with a loud _CLANG_ and pulled himself to a fettle position. He muttered under his breath in Spanish. Nico could not make out what he meant, but it sounded like a prayer.

Nico remained with his back pinned against the railing. His chest rose and fell like waves during a storm. His heart choked him. The ghost before him had just made some random teen crumple to his feet in utter agony. It positively terrified him. Would the boy be alright? By the sound of the other's sobs, Nico highly doubted it.

The ghost slowly turned to face him. With both hands at its sides, it did not look tempted to attack, but Nico did not relax.

'_At ease, my liege._' The ghost assured in his odd hissy voice. '_My only wish is to protect you. To trek in such a place is dangerous. You should be thankful I was there to save you from this monster of a child.'_

Nico managed to swallow and push his heart back into his chest. He slowly found his way back on his feet, but the banister still held most of his weight. With his heart back in its proper place, he managed to calm down somewhat. But with the other boy still sobbing and mumbling to himself, he could not help but remain wary of the very ghost who had saved his life.

Another c_lang_ followed by a _bang_ that made the walkaway shutter. A latter dropped between Nico and the ghost. The demigod's gaze shot up. There had been an escape route hanging over his head the entire time. But, looking at the height of wear the latter would have originally been nestled, he wouldn't have had any chance to reach it.

His eyes looked forward again and his mouth opened with a readied thanks. The ghost was gone from sight and brought the chill with him. All that was left was a frightened Nico and a Latino boy who had just had a mental breakdown and was slowly reaching for his weapon.

Nico grabbed the icy cold latter and swung onto the bars. He pushed himself up higher towards the manhole cover above. Below he could hear the fallen sword drag against the iron walkway like nails on a chalkboard. His heart leapt into his throat. The boy was up.

The sword bashed against the latter and caused it to shutter violently. Nico's fingers clamped around the freezing metal as he clung to it for dear life until the vibration eased. He could hear the boy mumbling nonsense before screeching at the top of his lungs. The frail boy shot up the latter as fast as his limbs could carry him.

He put all his might into one hand as he pushed up against the heavy disk which blocked him from freedom. The other boy's screams terrified him. Adrenaline shot through his veins like a drug. One last push lifted the cover up and lifted it away. A dim red light flooded into the hole followed by the smell of brimstone. He scrambled out as fast as he could and pushed the cover back on. The boy's scream fell silent, sealed with a ∆.

The adrenaline faded and the fear began to die. Nico finally took a moment to relax. He lay down on black sand. His eyes closed and his mind was soothed by the sound of rushing water. For the first time, he realized how nice it was to be lazy. Laying down and enjoying the idea of being alive felt amazing, even better than nectar and ambrosia. Though it was ironic that he relished life in the land of the dead, he still found it appropriate in the same sense.

"Nico!" A voice cried out his name.

A gust of wind brushed against his face and forced his eyes open. A flutter of black feathers caught his attention and alerted him into sitting up. He took in his surroundings. He was most definitely still in the underworld. But he was sitting on a shallow beach; the banks of a mighty river that roared with power. The water's colour was off. It did not look polluted and green. It merely looked odd. The smell filled him with an odd nostalgia, but not one that made him blissful.

"What are you doing here? Do you have any idea how dangerous the River Styx can be?"

He was yanked back into reality by a gust of wind that pressed a bitter cold against his face. He raised his arm to shield his eyes. Looking past them, he saw a black-winged angel hovering only a few feet before him. He landed lightly onto the sand and his wings tucked behind his back before vanishing into black and blue wisps of mist.

Morpheus grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him to his feet. His eyes were so full of rage that they had lost their swirling colour and were pure black orbs that glowed like they were electrically charged. It struck more fear into Nico's heart than the boy in the sewer had.

"What the Hades was that about?" He demanded coldly and let go his arm. "Do you have any idea how upset you made Nyx? How much you _insulted_ her?!"

Nico stumbled back from the dream god. He did not have the strength to meet the cold black eyes. Even the thought of them made his heart sink.

"I'm tired of people not telling me what's going on." He grumbled like the child he was. "It's my life it's affecting."

Morpheus uttered a soft sigh. His black eyes reverted back to their colour-wheel. His posture relaxed more. He reached out and touched Nico's shoulder gently. To Nico's own surprise, he felt no urge to recoil from it.

"Nico, I know this is hard for you, but you need to understand that we are keeping our mouths shut for your own good." He explained in a soft voice. "We are all in touch with The Fates. We know the future and in order to protect it, we need to keep in in the darkness so we don't cause a paradox."

Nico finally felt the urge to shrug the god's hand away. He took a step back. His head rose in defiance. He knew this was just as foolish as when he had stormed away from the dinner table, but he could not help it. The last time he was left out of something, he lost the only person he had. He did not want to know what else the cruel world of a demigod could take from him next.

"It's still my future." He said harshly. "I deserve to know!"

"The only thing you deserve, brat, is a slap across your dumb face." Morpheus sneered at him. "We may be nice to you, but we are still gods. Remember that we want to be nice to you, we don't have to. So if you start taking our kindness for granted, I promise you that the next time you get locked up in your room, Cinderella, your prince isn't coming to rescue you."

Fury surged in Nico's chest. His hands clamped into fists that were held at his sides. Morpheus continued to treat him like a mindless child. He was smarter than others thought. The whole point of leaving Camp Half-Blood was to prove that. He was well aware that Morpheus was a god and gods demanded respect, but he was too frustrated and insulted to do so. His future was on the line and the gods knew the outcome. The fact that they would not tell him is what drove him insane.

Morpheus relaxed once more. He knelt down to be at Nico's level. He met his eyes. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over the young demigod. His body relaxed and the rage slipped from him. It was strange. He knew that Morpheus was using some sort of power, but he could not utter the will to be angry at him.

"Nico, where have you been?" He questioned with concern clear in his tone.

"What do you mean?" Nico frowned.

Morpheus leered back slightly. He looked shocked by the response.

"What do you mean _what do I mean_?" He questioned softly. "Nico, you've been missing for two whole days."

Nico's eyes grew the size of discus. Two days! How could he be gone for two days? It was impossible. How could time work like that? Did the effect of that hotel he and Bianca were in worked the same way in other places too?

"I was only in that tunnel-sewer thing for a few hours." His voice was weak. He was no longer sure of his answer.

It was Morpheus's turn to look shocked. He grabbed a firm hold of Nico's shoulders. Worry was clear in his eyes, but the demigod swore he also saw a hint of fear. What would someone like Morpheus be afraid of?

"What sewer?" He demanded. "There are no sewers in the Underworld, Nico."

Morpheus's mouth fell agape. His hands slowly pulled back from the boy's shoulders. Fear was now clear in his eyes and it seemed infectious. Nico was now terrified.

"You found it." He spoke barely above a whisper. "You found the Labyrinth."

-x-

**-xxxx- Author's Note -xxxx-**

I am so sorry this took so long to get out, but I have just been so unmotivated as of late. I am also incredibly sorry if this chapter is very slow. I'm at a very hard point in the story in which writer's block leads to more writer's block. I am starting to move more onto Riordan's timeline, but it has led me to become a bit bored with the part I'm at. Honestly, all I want to do is skip to my epic and well-thought out finale. But, that's not the point of the story. The point of this story is to give some explanation of how Nico got to where is is. I will continue to write as often as I can, but the best thing for me is to hear from you guys. I like to hear your thoughts about the story and your opinions. If you think there is room for me to improve, please shoot me a message. Honestly, any message about my work motivates me to continue. I think dropping a compliment on anyone would motivate them which is why I always leave comments where I think they are needed or deserved.


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